Poetry Glace
by Lady Nightspike
Summary: COMPLETE. Vincent's pre-AVALANCHE life, loves, and downfall. Love pentagon! Vincent, Lucrecia, Tseng, Hojo and a female Turk...
1. The Promise of Vacation

Well, I just posted On What Wings? and decided, in my glowing mood of 'I actually posted something like I've been wanting to do for, I don't know, _forever' _so I'm going to post this as well.

I wroteit awhile ago, when Vincent kept surfacing in my mind and begging me to write him. Yes, it does contain a love triangle of sorts, with an OC, but I don't think she's Mary Sueish. For one thing, Rynn's almost nothing like me (and you're going to have to take my work on that), and for another, she is far from perfect. If you even remotely like Hojo, be warned: I can't stand him…he's a great character, I just can't help but portray him in the worst light.

Speaking of light, any flames will be happily used as stress relief from finals. Also, style: the writing felt very light, almost hyperbolic, overly descriptive, but it fits the story's thematic and dramatic sense. Or, that's the comforting illusion I place over my eyes each night. Along with the daydream that I actually DO own anything I am about to write about except for Rynn, a few minor details, and the plot.

* * *

Poetry Glace 

'_Do you love me?' Lucrecia asks me, lying in my arms. 'The future could hold anything for us.'_

_I don't reply at once, trying to think of a proper response. 'There could be someone else, Lucrecia.' I feel wounded at her choosing to play with my heart, and I figure it is time to strike back. _

Vincent awoke glassy-eyed from his daydream in front of the mirror in his office as Tseng slunk in. "Hey boss, what are you doing? Doesn't your plane leave in an hour? You might want to be on it when it takes off, you know."

"Watch it," warned Vincent, fiddling with his spilling ink-black hair. _What the hell was that all about? There is no one else, Lucrecia, and there never will be. _"Don't you have a President to bodyguard?"

"Um, yes, well, I wanted to verify the length of your vacation. You took a month's leave on semi-official duty?"

"I have to check on Hojo out at Nibelheim." Vincent's lip curled. _Why is Tseng questioning my actions? He has no clue about what is going on out there, and I know too much; I have to go see if Lucrecia is okay._

"Are you sure it's Hojo you need to-"

Vincent was clearly not in the mood for hassling. "Quiet, Tseng, if you know what's good for you."

_I know exactly what's good for you, Valentine, and it's NOT her, _thought Tseng. Vincent had never taken a vacation before; he hardly even took a sick day. But here he was, scraping away an entire month of his life- and all for what? _At least now I know for sure why he's going._

"I'll be back," said Vincent. "Take care of yourself, and of my Turks. I want them all in one piece when I return, right?" He walked off without further reply.

_So now I've bothered him. Well, it was for Rynn's sake, to see if his motive for leaving really was Lucrecia. She was so worried about him when she asked me this morning...speaking of which..._

"Tseng!" The elegant blue Turk uniform was anything _but _uniform on her slender body. "Have you seen Vincent?" Rynn's hair was a dark mist against her navy blue jacket. She loved her boss to the point of blind adoration, but the dark-haired woman in his fantasies was not one of his subordinates.

Tseng pointed sadly Vincentward. All the romantic notions in the world wouldn't help; Rynn was firmly set in her attraction to Vincent. _I suppose I should move on instead of hoping that one day she'll realize that I'm the one for her. After all, we're only friends. _He sighed at the cruel twist of fate that had him wishing she would give up on Vincent while he refused to give up on her just as stubbornly. _I guess I should call the President._ He stepped back inside his office as Rynn marched on, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

His misguided boss had given Tseng the other office that Shinra had allotted the Turks; since their jobs were usually more hands-on, offices were not necessary. However, Vincent did occasionally need a place to mull over all the super-secret affairs he presided over, and Tseng, being the second banana (_or, the second most misled person in our department, _thought he with a smile) had been lucky enough to land the smaller office down the hall. _Which means absolutely nothing except extra cleaning each week._

Rynn pursued Vincent on the strength of her heart's desire. "Vincent! Is it true that you're going away?"

"For awhile, yes. One of those arcane things called vacations." He smiled at her, loved her cutesy toughness, hard as a Turk and to hell with innocence but underneath still sugar-coated with laughter. She was the privileged one, had grown up pampered and volunteered to join. Whereas Vincent was crazy to see how the upper crust functioned, Rynn was willing to slum it and see what the lower classes did. _No wonder Tseng loves her. What a phenomenal choice. She's beautiful, sweet, vivacious, sassy..._He felt a pang of guilt even admitting that. The pang's name was Lucrecia. _Why, oh why, if I love Lucrecia, would I be jealous of Tseng? Oh yes. It's because Lucrecia is herself, and Rynn just seems more wonderful sometimes. If I had to do it different...no. I still would've chosen this way. Don't even think about Rynn. It's too dangerous for your sanity. _

"Do you have to go?" she asked.

"I must." _I can't fail Lucrecia. She's been out there with Hojo for too long. The man's a demon; who knows what he could be doing to her, probably fiddling with her brain...speaking of which, why is Rynn so upset?_

Rynn was clearly upset about something, but he couldn't tell what it was. He thought it was connected to his pending vacation, and that whatever it was, it was powerful enough to consume her. "I'll miss you," she said. Vincent caught the love behind the statement, realized why she had always been eager to go on missions with him, no matter how bad the job was, why she, unlike the others, physically presented herself to him each day for her orders, _why she always tried to know me as a person, not just a Turk..._

Turning away with enough elegance to make a dancer weep, she walked off silently. _But she loves...me? The most unworthy man in all of Midgar? And of course, she probably feels like an idiot walking off right now..._"Rynn, wait!" he called.

Meanwhile, Tseng rolled his eyes into a phone. "Yes, Mr. President, I can understand that, but as a security precaution..." The voice on the other end became more insistent. Tseng dealt with Shinra because he understood that his boss had no patience for protocol. If he cared about something, he could wait forever, but otherwise he wanted it NOW. So Tseng was the conduit of communications, brought Shinra's orders to Vincent, who in turn parceled them out among the group. _But that doesn't mean I don't get my fair share of the grunt work. Although I'd rather do grunt work than be in charge. If the boss quits or something happens, I'm the next in line for the throne._ He didn't think anything overly tragic would soon befall the young and vibrant Turk. _Still, I'm about to get my first taste of leadership..._

It then occurred to him that he should be listening, not ruminating. "Security my ass! I'm perfectly safe as long as I'm with you. If Valentine trusts you, then who wouldn't?" It was apparent that this rant had been going on for some time.

_The problem is that Vincent is a better Turk than I am. Hell, he's better than all of us put together. Sure, he taught us all we knew, but he's still a damn sight better at it. Rynn could be his equal in the technological sphere; maybe I'm as good in close-quarters combat, but his gunning skills and espionage are unrivaled. Well, I **wish **I could rival them._ "Sir," Diplomat Tseng volunteered, "Although we are the elite, it isn't wise to provoke trouble. Secrecy is the best way to avoid disaster." _This is going to take a long time, and it's not even like we're bickering over something of importance!_ The President wanted to ride out to inspect one of his new weapons factories in full Shinra splendour. It was Tseng's job to worry about the splendid danger of this undertaking.

"Get the hell down here and we'll work something out," the President said. "Ask Valentine what he thinks."

"Yes, Mr. President. I'll be down right away." _Well, I should go hunt down Valentine. Besides, it won't do to have him mad at me for a month. I might need him to advise me!_ He hung up the phone and left the office, shuddering as he passed through the doorframe. He didn't like being trapped in there; it was an eerie reminder of the fate of most other Shinra employees- desk bound. He could see Vincent ahead in the hallway, talking with Rynn, so he proceeded to ambush them.

"What is it?" Rynn asked Vincent. Caught between anger and anticipation, she didn't know what to think, and turned to face the crimson darkness which embraced her in turn.

"I never knew..." Vincent's eyes, the colour of wonder, held the look she'd always envisioned them holding.

_How lucky am I? _he wondered. _I can't believe I didn't know! _For once the glowing sun of Lucrecia was eclipsed by the shadows of Rynn. She broke against him like rocks on waves as he kissed her in some long deep hard and typical Valentine fashion.

"Where are you headed?" he asked when their eyes melded apart.

"To help Tseng, I thought."

"Screw it. I'm your boss, and you have the day off." _I'm going to miss my plane. Fuck it._ Lucrecia just didn't seem as important, or Hojo as menacing. _If an old sicko can seem menacing._ "Come on."

"Sir?" asked Tseng as his heart sunk with the weight of Rynn hidden in the shadows of Vincent's cloak. "The President-"

"If he objects to security, remind him that it is all too easy for one man with a sinister intent to shatter the dream of Shinra he has put together. While it is his responsibility to represent our company, he cannot do so if he is dead."

Tseng nodded and swirled away abruptly. He felt the burning wetness plague his eyes and refused to shed them, to ease the pain. In a fit of masochism, he watched as they got on the elevator. When they were gone, he blinked Rynn-visions from his eyes, retreated into his office and reshaped his desk into shards of something that vaguely resembled his wooden, hard, Turk heart.

* * *

Yeah. It has to be divided, since it's pretty long, and so I'm going to use this to brighten a week of 'studying for finals.' Also, I have a writing seminar essay due in two days, so procrastinationgood. Tell me what you think? Should I even bother with the rest of it? Should I kill myself for writing such drivel? Tune in next time, for another dose of sarcasm! (which is probably unneeded.) 


	2. Vincent and Rynn

Yeah. This week has been bad. Not that I've done anything, but I found out that one of my friends is leaving school and coming back next year. I thought I had issues. Finals are going to be hell. Someone please review? Make my day at least a little better...

------

_All the possibilities,_ thought Rynn as she savoured the feel of Vincent's arm around her. He smiled as they walked, plucking a flower from one of the bouquets in the lobby and handing it to her. _It's hard to believe that this man is the best of snipers. He is so full of passion that it's hard to see him cold and emotionless in the spyglass of a rifle._ She tucked the rose behind her ear and tucked the whimsy away into her mind.

"Where to, my lady?" he asked softly.

"Anywhere you wish," she replied.

They walked through the streets of Midgar and she noticed things that, Vincentless, had been missing, things that stunk of joy and celebration even in the magnificence of poverty and ruin. _This is from whence we came, _she observed.

"This is my favourite place," he told her as they stopped before the door of a dilapidated restaurant. A sign read DARCY'S PLACE in big black block letters. Opening the door for her, he wondered, _Is this why I had that daydream this morning?_ He often let his mind wander, sketch out different ideas using familiar styles. It usually painted scenes of Lucrecia, his favourite medium, but lately such scenarios had varied from the flowery romance genre and strayed into darker areas.

They sat at one of the smaller tables as a waitress came over to them. "Vincent, hello! I haven't seen you in at least a month!" Noticing Rynn, she remarked, "Is this the girl you said I absolutely _had_ to meet?"

There was an embarrassed moment. _Oh no, I did tell her about Lucrecia! I thought that was just a dream!_

"Of course," he responded, not wanting to look like an idiot."Darcy, this is Rynn. She's a Turk like me, only better."

"Oh please," retorted Rynn. "Everyone knows that the great Vincent Valentine is unsurpassed in all things Turk. I am pleased to meet you, though, Darcy." She showed no signs of surprise or anger, and he wondered if she had even thought of Lucrecia upon hearing Darcy's question. _Good, I saved it, _thought Vincent.

"Likewise," the woman responded. "I'll get you some water. Take a look at the menu, and I'll be back in a second."

"Do you like it here?" asked Vincent. "I've never brought anyone down here because I figured they would all want someplace more upscale, but I love this restaurant. I've known Darcy since I was a kid on the streets. She took me in, helped me some when my family got unbearable." _I was planning on taking Lucrecia here, but as she is so preoccupied with her uber-important scientific nonsense, it's doubtful I ever will._

"I love it," said Rynn. "It's good not to eat in some formal place all the time." _I never would have guessed that Vincent was like this. I thought he was all elegance and fashion. Maybe there is something of home burned in him, preserved for all these years. _She had grown up in a privileged household and joined the Turks to be a spy and technician. Unfamiliar with the violence of the streets, she nevertheless beat out many other candidates to earn her place in the group.

They ordered sodas when Darcy returned. Vincent got something known to Rynn as 'the Usual.' Rynn requested macaroni and cheese, declaring she would save room for dessert. The food had essence of home embedded in it, even to one such as Rynn who was unfamiliar with the term 'home cooking.' Something about it was comforting to her, and upon remarking on it, Vincent said he felt it too.

For dessert he again wanted 'the Usual,' but with two spoons. "You have to try this," he said after Darcy went to bring them the mystery dish. "It's the most wonderful thing in all of Midgar...well, mostly. But I can safely say that the two most wonderful things in Midgar are with us today."

_Is he always this ambiguously verbose?_ Vincent's capacity for words had always amazed her, since he had, essentially, picked himself up from his impoverished roots. He had gone to college on scholarships because he was so bright, but his childhood years had been devoid of education except in the school of the streets. _The one I never graduated from._ She smiled at the compliment. "I am sure that whatever it is, it will be excellent."

"Have any plans after this?" he asked. _Hopefully she doesn't, although I may need some time to mull over what has happened today. I'm on a date- a date!!!- with Rynn, of all people. Did I stop loving Lucrecia? Am I being unfaithful?_

Darcy waltzed over. "Behold, Vincent, the crowning glory of all desserts!" she announced. It was indeed royalty among postprandial treats. A graham cracker pie crust encircled a ring of raspberries, apples and pears drowned in vanilla custard. The fruit was served, as amber saves the choicest relics of time, via a glossy icing.

Rynn made several exclamations over its beauty. Vincent cut a piece, tenderly, and let it make its way into her mouth. She wiped a bit of the sugary icing off her lips and sucked on one of her fingers as she stared insolently across the table. Vincent suddenly knew what his plans were for the night.

_I do not regret this decision, _he thought as Darcy cleared the last traces of crust from the table amid Rynn's praise of her creation. "If poetry were food," declared the Turk, "you would be a master wordsmith."

"You should be proud, Darcy; Rynn majored in computer science and creative writing during college," warned Vincent. "I have no idea how she ended up in her line of work, but it happens." He shrugged.

"You Turks are all alike," tsked Darcy. "Flatterers." Vincent paid her with a generous tip and a promise to return soon. He held out his arm for Rynn, who took it with a flounce. She bade Darcy goodbye as they went out the door. They seemed to float down the street.

"You know," she said to him, "I never thought I had a chance with you."

"I never thought about having a chance with you," he answered. "I'm glad it transpired this way, however, because otherwise it may not have been so utterly perfect." _If I make my way to Nibelheim now, _he decided, _it will only be to tell Lucrecia that I have moved on._ After so long, the death bell had finally tolled for their love. Any regret he felt in that moment dissipated, dissolved, when Rynn's lips found their way to his.The crimson passion of Rynn seared away the icy strands of Lucrecia wrapped around his heart.

It was not surprising that people on the streets stopped to stare, for Rynn in her snappy suit cut a notorious figure- if they did not know Rynn, they surely recognized the uniform and its dubious origins- and Vincent in his ruby red black leather, familiar locks and violet eyes with guns polished at his sides was unmistakably The Turk, the one who had started it all; furthermore, such a brilliant display of affection was unusual, and two tigers who fearlessly shut out the world in a fit of public privacy demanded the attention of many pedestrians. In fact, three street toughs rushed them at that instant when their desire had gone from controlled to rampant, determined to make a profit out of such a spontaneous display.

_What?!_ Vincent saw them in his excellent peripheral vision, broke off from Rynn and had his guns out before any of the thieves realized that their victims weren't as ignorant as they seemed. A passerby screamed, igniting the attention of many, and a general panic ensued as Vincent fired the first gunshots. One attacker went down, bleeding heavily from a serious head wound that Vincent knew from long experience in such affairs would prove fatal in the end. _Damned ruffians never learn! Undoubtedly at least one of them thought it would be great fun to test the two entranced lovers walking down the street. Well, these lovers aren't so fun to provoke!_

The second bandit fired at Vincent, who dodged. _It's going to take more than that, buddy, if you even want a piece of me!_ Not bothering with his guns, which he often found tiresome, Vincent started forward and snapped the man's neck with an easy twist. He was far from overpowering in strength, but he was well-trained in combat, and his dexterity compensated for whatever else he lacked.

However, Rynn had been hijacked by the third bandit, who was off and running as he saw his comrades fall, using her as a shield. "Shoot and she dies!" he admonished Vincent.This was punctuated by a loud crack as Rynn shot him point-blank in the heart. _And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why no one should attack a Turk._ She ran to Vincent and asked if he was okay. He blinked at her. "What else _would _I be?"

"I forgot you didn't know how to be injured, O fearless leader," she replied. "Well, let's get going before some pathetic excuse for authority strolls up and asks questions."

_While we were innocent of any crime except self-defense, it's better just not to deal with any flak from someone who thinks he's in charge._ "Indeed," he said gravely and took her arm as if nothing had happened. There was blood on her uniform but it didn't look out of place.

"Well, Vincent, do you want to meet up with me later, or do you want to come in?" Rynn asked, her voice slightly flushed, as she ambled up the steps to her apartment. Her smile was like sunflower verse, upturned and ready to greet him in her cheerful manner. As he debated the options, he decided, _I might as well make this memorable. _

"I like you just the way you are, but if you must change out of your uniform, well," and here a sparkle dampened his eye- "I could help you..."

He tossed her the keys to his heart and she unlocked the door and they went in together.

"Well, Rynn," he said when she had settled him on her couch and was making tea for them. _Are you sure? _he asked himself. _You can back out now, Vincent, last warning, last chance._

_Yes, _his heart answered. _This is real. _He felt this conviction deep within his soul, and decided to give it the weight it ought to have.

So when Rynn abandoned her tea and asked him if he could shoot the stars for her one by one with that silly gun of his, he said he wouldn't mind. He felt so confident in his feelings that _forever _didn't seem like a hard concept, and so he took what she had to offer, growing more confident with each kiss that he had made the right decision.

The authorities had finally come and carted away the bodies by the time Vincent woke, fumbled for his clothes and a pen and wrote a few scrambled ideas down for Rynn to digest. He stumbled out, eyes red from crying. _Oh by Holy Lucrecia I'm so sorry why did I ever I can't change the past and I can't make it up to you not now never again._ "Never again!" he raged. _What have I done- I've destroyed my whole life... and hers...Rynn..._

He was clutching his memories of Lucrecia close. He had no idea where he was going, to what he was doing...he ran through Midgar, barely stopping to see where he was, and ran to the Shinra building. He took the nearest car, smashed open the window, hardly caring, and hijacked it Turk-style to the end. He drove out of the city as fast as he dared.

Stealing someone's prize Gold Saucer racing chocobo to continue his rushed maddened journey. He flew to the nearest forest, swam across a river. _I will get to you I promise I think I hope to make it better._

Vincent. Rynn smashed the wineglass in her hand, moaning as she considered what he'd done. She'd woken to nothing, expecting to see the one she'd finally captured there. _You fool,_ she cursed herself. _Did you delude yourself into thinking that he loved you? That he would renounce Lucrecia just for your sake? Because if you did, that was pretty stupid._ Although she knew that she had done so, she couldn't come to terms with it just yet.

What had he left her? A note, not even. Its contents were as labyrinthine as the mind of the man from whence they came. It read, in his elegant gorgeous handwriting, crimson like blood and tears:

_Rynn I need her I can't help myself_

_Too scared of change...too afraid of my own fucking heart._

(Some perverse part of her smiled. Only Vincent could use 'fucking' so eloquently.)

_Rynn I'm sorry I tried so hard but_

_Can't escape what holds me tight_

_Must get to her tonight and see_

_Was going to give her up_

_My own unfaithfulness_

_And your love_

_Undeserved. Unworthy. Unable._

She thought, _It wasn't you who was unworthy, Vincent. I should have known.)_


	3. Unwelcome at Nibelheim Mansion

Nope...still don't own anything except Rynn and a few plot devices. I decided to throw this out there as well.

--------------

_Must get to her NOW!_ His mind screamed at him in tatters and ruin. It was the quiet after an earthquake, and he was feeling the aftermath of it all. _Rynn..._no. He couldn't allow himself to even say it. _I'm giving up._ But he didn't know what up **was**.

It was an easy matter to find Nibelheim. It was at the foot of the Nibel Mountains; Vincent had been there before, and chocobos flew fast even at nighttime. He left the chocobo to fend for itself, trusting it to return home. He would find some other way of getting back. He strode in through the village, ignoring the quaint houses that nestled in the space between the vast mountain range.

The old mansion perched off to the side, like a distrusted foreigner intruding in a circle of friends. It was much too unwieldy for the lovely town, its architecture dismally masculine in the midst of the comforting mother-houses around it. Apple pie and warmth exuded from those homes. He shivered. The mansion made him cold.

_And what's inside is worse..._

The gate was unlocked, as was the door. No one would ever go in uninvited, unless they were certain of their immunity. The townsfolk abhorred the mansion and Shinra's presence, but they were uneasy about the uncanny house, and stayed away from it.

It was of a mechanical structure; the wrought iron gates were reflected inside by cold sconces that never held torches. A dim chandelier flickered overhead in the foyer. Vincent removed his cloak, grew chill and replaced it. He would need its red cherry cheerfulness before the night was gone. _This place should be so beautiful, but it isn't. _He rubbed his fingers together, hoping friction would warm them; it didn't help. The warmest thing in the room was his own heart. _And that, at this point, is pretty damn cold._

_So, where are they?_ It seemed that there was no one afoot, though he never trusted appearances. _Do they heat the house? At all?_ The interior seemed colder than the exterior, and it had been snowing lightly to welcome him.

"Hello?" he stammered. His emotions had exhausted him and he no longer cared about whatever might jump out at him from the dark corners of this ugly house that should have been lovely.

The old stairs creaked like ghosts when he ascended them, but he kept his resolve and tenebrous shadows could not shake him this time. _I me we Rynn Lucrecia I what am I doing here I should not have come. There is nothing for me here, _and the echoes seemed to whisper back 'nothing for you here,' even though he hadn't spoken, only thought.

_I hope Rynn understands._ He turned to the left, hoping it was the way that would lead him to find another living being and triply hoping said being would not be Hojo. _If he even qualifies._

But it was not Hojo that he stumbled over then.

She gasped, glasses spilling to the floor while her hair tumbled from its customary clip. He was used to the dazzling looks of Rynn by now, her wonderful smile, and Lucrecia's efficient prettiness was quick and precise like a surgical knife compared to that particular ocean. "V-  
Vincent?" and he saw that he was not the only person for whom this derelict place had adverse effects.

"It's me," he said. His swirling thoughts were suddenly silent, like the eye of a storm. "I came to see you. Are you okay?"

"Yes, I'm fine," she said.

He noticed her then. She was in her nightgown; it had been how many months since he had seen her? Three? It was worn and cotton, sensible like the rest of her never was. Something about her appearance snapped at him, but he was too tired to assimilate it. "I missed you," he declared, picking her glasses up from the floor and replacing the clip in her hair. "I couldn't wait to see you, so I took a vacation."

It was dark but she yawned wide and her eyes reflected what little light there was. "It's late, Vincent," she frowned. "Almost one o'clock."

"Yeah, well, you know me."

"Did you mean to travel so late?"

"I made good time," he said, but offered nothing else.

"Well, if I was at all practical, I would tell you to go to bed. There's a spare bedroom up here that you can have."

"And where are **you**?"

Lucrecia avoided the question by answering, "But I'm not practical," and pulling him into a kiss. It just flooded his quiet mind with more energy to release at some later date.

"Let me make you some tea," she said. "This house isn't very hospitable and you must be cold."

"I **was**," he responded, but he was still cold inside, where it counted, numb and frozen.

They sat at an uncomfortable table in the tiny kitchen. Vincent thought the best thing about the flight from Midgar, the best thing all night, was the tea. She would only drink the most organic of blends. _I guess it's because she is a scientist and environmentally conscious, though I wonder how someone as fluttery as her ever became one._

Dancing there in the kitchen, she asked him in a combination of steps why he was so pensive. "I was just wondering how someone like you ever became a scientist. I would never imagine you in a laboratory setting, all serious. The strictest thing about you is those silly glasses that you usually don't wear and when you do they just fall off your head."

"Well," she bristled, "one could say the same about you. The way you look, talk, dress, act...I would label you a poet for sure, or an actor or something...but never an assassin, a spy, a thief, a _Turk_."

"I suppose," he apologized, for it was true, "that we must save a part of ourselves, hold it away from our occupations. This part is the truest part of us, but it is preserved and hidden. Sometimes we don't even know it is there." _Just like my feelings for Rynn. Is that truer, then, than my love for Lucrecia?_

"Perhaps you are right." She sipped her tea, yawning, and said, "I'm off to bed. I have to wake up in two hours, you know. Some sleep could be beneficial."

"I'll stay here for now," he said. _She's beautiful Vincent and why did you ever put her off, or whatever? Rynn, memories, sunflowers bending to the sunrise, light streaming in through windows, Midgar at moonrise._ Scattered images appealed to him one by one, pleading with him to return. _No I can't, _and he thought, _Lucrecia, glass bottles, typed love letters so she could read my handwriting, out here in cold Nibelheim, a wheel in the Shinra automobile._ But before he could process this the hard icy grip of Sleep caught him in its machinery.

He awoke to the comfort of a wooden tabletop and an icy mug of chilled tea. He shivered out the crick in his neck and wrapped himself in a hug.

"Well, well. I see our young Turk has had a nap?" Any semblance of comfort dissipated.

_Hojo._ The man presided over him in his sneering lab coat finery. _What a fine morning. I didn't wake up on the wrong side of the bed because there was no bed to wake up on. _"Yurch bleah," he muttered as an alternative to the swears he was thinking at the surrogate-man. A yawn split his face apart as Hojo laughed thick with derision.

"So, Vincent, it appears you are here to be informed of my progress and report back to Shinra. Would you like to see my project, or would you like to stew here in a pile of your own drool?"

"Trif gheat hurrp," he replied, nearly conversationally. _Fuck you, you half-cocked rifle. I'd love to blow your brains all over this kitchen...for the sake of science._

"I will ready the lab for an inspection. You may come down at your leisure as long as you do not inflict your clumsiness upon any of my valuable equipment."

_Your valuable equipment? Compensating for something? _Vincent was far from clumsy, but Hojo delighted in slighting his intellect and charm whenever he could.

Cackling, Hojo left the room while Vincent hauled himself out of bed and designed an experiment (without a control group) to prove his theory that ridding the world of a certain breed of insect would cause everything in his life to be better. He was mentally drawing up a Shinra funding proposal sheet while washing his face when Lucrecia flounced in, looking far too perky for someone benefitting from two hours' worth of sleep.

"Good morning sunshine!" she cried, though there was no sunshine anywhere near the Turk. "I prepared some breakfast for you. I hope it's the right temperature." Vincent knew that the temperature, as far as Lucrecia's cooking was involved, was the last priority on his list of things to be unsure about. After all, he had once killed a man with one of her brownies- _bricks to be more exact. Actually, did I build a house for someone with those? I could have._

He gingerly tested the food on his plate. _If it looks like food, it could still be the germ mold bacteria slime that was probably Hojo's ancestors- or worse, descendants._ He thought then of Rynn, for some heart mystery reason, and cringed. He would rather eat Lucrecia's food for the rest of his life and put up with a scum crud like Hojo than face Rynn again, even if it was only in his mind.

"Lucrecia!" Hojo actually ran in, much to Vincent's amusement. "Quit socializing! I need you in the lab. Emergency! You! Don't come into my domain until later. Get some sleep or something, in a bed this time. Unless you prefer the table?"

"Blaff prets dase," mumbled Vincent, even though he was hardly half-asleep anymore. It was better than saying what he really thought to the good doctor, if said doctor, even just in an expression, could ever be classified as good.

"Oh, Vincent!" said Lucrecia. "I'm sorry to leave you at such a time, but we'll soon be reunited..."

This last was stated so slyly that Hojo glared bright with dark envy at Vincent. Jealously he replied, drily, "Yes, we will give you a welcome that will make you forget the slovenliness of Midgar!" This did not seem like a promise but rather a threat to Vincent, who only responded in thought. _Raspberries and pears bursting in my mouth with flavor, Rynn and her laughter, us kissing fearlessly in the streets. Will I forget that, ever?_

"Is there a phone around here I can use to call the office?" he asked.

"There is one in the living room," said Lucrecia. "Down the hall and to the left, if you're lost." Vincent knew he was lost anyway, but didn't bother to mention it. She'd never understand.

They went their separate ways, Hojo still chuckling about his hearty greeting; he was the type of man who was obliged to laugh at his own jokes because no one else would, Vincent still mostly unreflective, like a mirror too shattered to hold an image. But he had to keep on, and press he did, buttons on a phone calling home too soon.

"Yeah," spoke the comforts of home as it picked up. Ungracious, perhaps, but still better than the cold warmth of Nibelheim's mansion.

"Tseng?" _Thank Holy it's him and not some well-meant idiot- or worse, Rynn. _"It's me. I'm in Nibelheim. Can you do me a favor?"

"Sure, boss, what?" _He sounds so...removed. Not even agitated, just strange _and here Tseng saw again the image flashing in his mind of Vincent leaving with his arm around Rynn. _She's not here yet. Is she coming in today?_

Vincent replied, "I need to send a message from here to...to Rynn..." and Tseng could tell he was heart-hurt, wounded and demoralized and bewildered.

_I'm feeling confused myself; how the hell did he get to Nibelheim so fast?_ "To Rynn? Why?"

"Amber apples and elegant writing, she told me she loved it..."

_Nah, my boss can't be nuts. Uhh, um, well- _"Who are you and what have you done with the levelheaded Vincent Valentine?"

"That's my secret, Tseng," his levelheaded boss laughed. "I'm not really at all, never have been. It's me, now, more than it has ever been."

"Boss, you're a great Turk. Don't throw that away. Take your vacation and come back like you always were."

"Like I never was? Trapped in someone else's personality until I wanted to scream the injustice of it?" His oblique message tugged at some heinous thought in the back of Tseng's mind that he refused to acknowledge.

"So what are you saying?" _Cautious, Tseng. This is Danger you're meeting, very nearly face to face._

Vincent said, "Moonrising flowers of the sun and finally opened its buds," and Tseng knew the story, that they had gone off and had a grand time, only to scare Vincent away to Nibelheim and the arms of something safer and more familiar, even if it was harder, harsher and less worthy of soft love. For as much as Lucrecia appeared like a creature startled out of fantasy, she was still a practical scientist, still had that exterior glaze of ice that glared like something fiercely chilled at whatever threatened it; Tseng knew that look all too well, and, _if he is really what he says he is, which now makes more sense _(for he had seen it in him, under him, that passion and deep wording manipulation, while over him was that adamantine armour of spikes and bullets and a certain blue uniform) _he is being frozen to death right now by Lucrecia's unbecoming_ _flightiness that was once a fetish of his, and wishing for Rynn very badly. Even if my own heart wants to kill me for aiding and abetting his._

Tseng pitied Vincent and the position he was in, stuck between two lovely women though he was. For the first time in his life he actually felt close to him as a person, as if he was talking to Vincent Valentine, who was not just the Turk whom everyone tried (and usually failed) to emulate.

"I don't know, Tseng," Vincent finally concluded. "I guess I'll just have to figure it out for myself. Thanks for listening. I won't take up any more of your time; after all, one of us has to run the Turks, and right now, it's not me..."

But Tseng couldn't let go and resume his duties until he knew. _It will hurt if it's the answer I think it is. Is he coming back? This sounds more like a long farewell than anything. Ave atque vale? _"Do you love her, Vincent?" It was the first time he'd addressed Vincent as himself, as if they were equals or something equally silly.

Right before the phone ended its plummet downwards to its cradle, he heard the softest of whispers as a reply. There was a click, and the line went dead. Tseng sighed as he thought of all the comforting he would have to do when Rynn heard, because he wouldn't lie to her. All their phone calls were recorded, and he would let her listen, whenever she felt ready. Or whenever she asked.

------------------

I hope you liked it! It's getting there...two more chapters to go...


	4. Dissolution

Well, it's almost the end. Again, I don't own things. I just borrow them. Although Rynn is mine.

--------------

Vincent was finally awake and ready to inspect the lab whenever Hojo declared it safe for inspection. He had a feeling that Hojo was down there trying to hide whatever illegal, controversial _things_ he was currently doing, and cast a suspicious glance towards the hidden door in the corner of the guest bedroom. _I should go down now, unexpectedly, and give the bastard what he deserves. _The idea held more and more merit the longer he considered it, and finally he retrieved his gun from the small bag he'd brought with him, put it in its usual place, and descended the spiral stairs.

"Hojo!" he asserted at the bottom. "I'm coming in now." He strode past a small partitioned section and made his way toward the rooms at the end of the earthy hallway, where things were a bit more civilized. There were too many bats in the corridor for his taste, and the ground (for there was no floor) was too fungal. He threw open the door and entered the room with its mysterious bottles and equipment. There were many other chambers hidden after the initial set, but of course he didn't know that, until much later.

Hojo was buried in a pile of books, sitting at his desk and frantically making notes in the margins. He barely looked up to register the Turk, then did a double triple take and stammered, "D-didn't I tell you to wait upstairs! Shoo!" Lucrecia and two other men were working diligently nearby on...something.

_As if I were a glorified house pet. _Vincent's lip curled in derision. _Where's Lucrecia? _"I'm not shooing, Hojo, so I suggest you apprise me of your dealings. What is your project and its status? I'm eager to begin my vacation, you know."

"Come with me, and I will show you all my powers." said Hojo abruptly. He stood up, and insisted, "Come!" He dashed upstairs, and Vincent had no choice. "You too!"Lucrecia and the others followed in their wake.

Hojo flung open the door to the mansion, kicked the gate. Vincent noticed his unnatural strength and shivered. _What has Hojo been doing out here? _he wondered. It was as if he were possessed by another force, controlled by something greater than...no. It was absurd and he didn't trust his altered thoughts. _This place is too white and blank to be right._

Vincent and the others watched as Hojo exited Nibelheim. "Where are we going?" he asked them, but they only shook their heads.

The slight delay had caused them to miss the first part of the spectacle, but what Vincent saw made his blood turn cold and cease flowing. "What the-" and he pulled out his gun, ready to defend Hojo (_even if I hate him_) but Lucrecia shoved his hand aside and pointed.

A great, leathery-winged beast towered over them all, as Hojo laughed, a harsh grating sound like the rasping of an engine. He was exuding an aura that slowly killed the grass around it, and Vincent did not want to stray any closer. He took Lucrecia's hand as Hojo grabbed the monster with the sickly mist; it toppled to the ground with a roar. But Hojo subdued it quickly, rushing over to it, and though it thrashed as he strangled it, it could not break free.

_How the fuck can that homunculus have so much strength?_ His brain resorted to Latin because he had no other perfect word for Hojo; indeed, all the other languages he had picked up in his time had no word so fitting as that one, which meant 'little man,' in a condescendingly insulting way. _I don't know what the hell he's been up to, but..._

Hojo interrupted his thoughts, "If one man such as myself can fell so great a monster, what would someone trained as a warrior be able to do? I submit to you, Vincent Valentine, that Shinra can, with my help, develop the perfect weapon- an ideal fighter whose strength is augmented by the powers which I have demonstrated here!"

This was too much for Vincent to subsume along with the Rynn-coloured mess of yesterday, and so he said and did nothing as Hojo proceeded silently back into the town, into the mansion. Even the other scientists looked stunned; Hojo must have been holding back from them as well. They silently entered the mansion, Vincent last, and before he crossed over he turned his heart to glance at the sky, and wished to be with Rynn instead. But still he could not bring himself to think about his future, and so he followed the rest of them.

Lucrecia ambushed him before he could continue, and hissed, "Outside. I can't breathe in here." So he turned again and headed out, happy to flee the oppressive mansion.

But out in the pale light of an anaemic day, he noticed something strange about her for the first time. Although it had only been three months since he'd last seen her, she looked...changed.

"Lucrecia, what is going on out here?"

She responded mistily, "Do you remember when you last came here? Things are different now. I'm pregnant. Hojo thinks it's for the best, though. He's going to use our child in his experiment for the perfect warrior."

Vincent could have taken a bullet better than that news, delivered in such a precise and detached manner. He stopped walking, but couldn't find anything to say. _'Our' child? So is she saying it's mine...or his? _The thought of Hojo with Lucrecia made him ill, but even more so did the implications. _A little child, poor child, brought up to be nothing but a weapon. _He grew angry and walked out of town.

She pleaded, "Vincent, don't be angry. Our-"

"Don't be angry?" he asked in such an icy tone that she nearly drew away. "Look!" he gestured towards the dying grass and the dead monster that Hojo had killed minutes ago. "Are you going to use your child in this?"

Lucrecia let out a little sob and fled towards the gates. He kept up easily, and grabbed her hands. Begged, "Please, Lucrecia! You can just say no. Hojo can find willing test subjects, or Shinra will find them for him." He was blocking her path, so she ran back out of the town.

Before pursuing her, he thought, _Well, I don't see how my Lucrecia could be so misguided. _He refused to dwell on anything except the fact that she was planning on experimenting on her own innocent child.

She was crying. "Vincent, please! Don't you know this will be for the greater good? I've thought long and hard about this, and concluded that this is the only way."

"The only way," he growled. "I'm sure Hojo feels the same about my child, and I have no choice?" _If it's mine, she'll tell me here. _He knew what words could and couldn't do, and that in Lucrecia's response would be the truth.

She was suddenly silent.

"Lucrecia?" he asked, thinking, _There can't possibly be anyone else, right? We fucked three months ago and now she's pregnant. No, that's wrong. Quit deluding yourself. I manipulated the conversation so I could figure out what she thought, and now I have. She doesn't know. HOW CAN SHE FUCKING NOT KNOW?!!?!? _His sanity chose that moment to mostly vacate the premises.

"Vincent, it might not-" she began, but he was in no mood to hear it. He ran off in a wild fit, and scarcely noticed where he was or what he was doing.

_Lucrecia couldn't have she wouldn't dare I can't believe she's going to test her own child and make him into this fighter sounds just like Hojo he's putting her up to this the bastard I'll kill him if he even thinks at them anymore must protect my own family!!! _

He eventually calmed down. His thoughts had carried him to the river, and he made his way back to Nibelheim, only to see Lucrecia standing there, embracing Hojo who was comforting her and wiping away her tears ever so gently...

_Well, Vincent, it's only what you deserved. Besides, she doesn't even know yet whose it is. If she is happy then, with him, I guess I don't mind. _Head shake. _What the hell am I saying? Of course I do! No, it's her safety and happiness and you can't be judgmental after all you just made love to Rynn...so just leave the emotion out of it for once, Valentine; be as cold as you need to be to survive and convince her that it's not in the best interests of the child to treat it like a guinea pig._

So he went back into the town, where Hojo and Lucrecia were waiting for him. "You've had a shock," Hojo said in a tone that did not suggest solicitude. "Why don't you rest in the inn for awhile, to get out of the mansion." He entered and signaled the attendant, who nodded. Obviously they had arranged this during his walk.

They all went upstairs, then. Lucrecia, tired and worn, sat down and unconsciously rubbed her stomach as they began talking.

"I," started Hojo, "am undertaking this experiment for the sole purpose of carrying out the work I am destined to do. Lucrecia has graciously volunteered to participate in it. You, no matter what there is between you two, cannot stop her, and I suggest that you either give up and stay here quietly or leave so that you do not disrupt my project."

"So that's what this is to you? A project? I don't care whose child it is, Hojo, or how many people consent. I'm against it! Why experiment on humans?!"

"She and I are both scientists," Hojo said, casting a significant look at Lucrecia, wrapped in her own world where gears and machines inside her were producing this warrior.

"So does that not make you human?" Vincent said. "You could find others to work on. I oppose this."

"And what are you going to do about it? It's already been approved by people higher than you, and getting involved would be...hazardous to your health."

"Is that another flimsy threat, Hojo?"

Lucrecia stood and said, "Vincent, please! Do you remember, before I left Midgar, we were speaking of our life together? We can still have that, if-"

"If what? If he takes up residence in our basement? I'll let him live in the toilet where a slimy piece of shit like him belongs!" Hojo only flexed his hands, feeling his new strength flood him with energy. On so many levels, the thought of killing Vincent made him...excited.

"I'll name him Laeroth, like you wanted," Lucrecia offered. "I know I wanted Sephikos, after the mythical God of the Sky, but-"

"How about a synthesis, Lucrecia, since you don't mind fiddling with sacred things? We can call him Sephiroth as a compromise, just like the dirty compromise you're trying to get me to agree to. And we'll all live happily ever after in the mansion basement, so we can do inhumane experiments in our spare time. We can each sleep in one of those coffins in the hallway and have sex on the desk in the next room."

"But, Vincent, I love-"

"Science! You only love science!" He flung his arms in indignation. "You certainly can't love me, if you think to use me so easily. You also can't love your child, because you value him as a lab rat and nothing more..."

She uttered a slight cry and collapsed. Hojo rushed to her side, saying, "Look what you have done!" He struck Vincent hard, and as the Turk fainted, Hojo picked up Lucrecia and carried her from the room.

Vincent awoke to the cover of nighttime. _I can't let him do this to her! Must stop him...stop them all. _He was disgusted with the world and so wrapped up that he could think of nothing but what Lucrecia was planning on doing, so he ran to the mansion and flew down the stairs. He almost tripped on a divot of sod in the hallway, but persevered and nearly knocked the door open.

Hojo again was at his desk, but rose. "I'm afraid that I cannot have you down here. It could destroy all that I've worked for. Professor Gast and I have talked it over, and agreed that you must return to whatever slime pit you came from immediately."

"I will stop you, Hojo! You are the problem! You ruined Lucrecia's heart, made her as twisted as you are, and perverted her mind into believing that she must sacrifice her child!"

"Lucrecia never loved you, Vincent," said Hojo, chuckling. "She hated how you doted on her, but the last time you came she was desperate to conceive a child, desperate enough to run to you in hopes that you would fertilize her."

_The way he talks about her...the bastard! You don't understand what love is, so how could you ever say such a thing? _"LIES!" he bellowed. "ALL LIES! Lucrecia would never think that and I will kill you for talking that way about her!"

That laugh again! Hojo bowed and said, "You can no longer mess with my experiment. You will survive today, but you will be forever changed. Your punishment is that you will witness the glory of my triumph unable to save anything, including yourself..."

And he pulled out a gun and shot Vincent in the heart. "The fool. I'll make him see that Lucrecia loves me...and only me!" He glanced around furtively, hoping she hadn't heard the gunshots from his bed upstairs, then, using his unnatural powers, placed Vincent on the nearest lab table and said, "Let's see...I'll need some operating equipment, some Mako...some cruelty..." He grabbed a sterilized needle filled with a glowing green _res, _and, hypothesizing about what would happen, jabbed it into Vincent's left arm. For there was only that word, a Latin word, that could encompass the possibilities of Mako in its..._complexus._.

His eyes glowed as he said to the body, "You will awaken to a nightmare. You will be trapped, completely impotent, and Lucrecia will think you abandoned her. She will retaliate by throwing herself more firmly into my arms...all for the sake of my project!"


	5. The Promise of Ending

Here it is: the ending. I hope you enjoyed this fic as much as I enjoyed writing it. Review if it strikes you. Sorry it had to end this way, but without it FFVII couldn't have occurred...

----------------

Vincent Valentine never returned from his vacation. He had, by Hojo's report, never reached Nibelheim. Tseng, new leader of the Turks, lowered his head in sorrow as he met with the President.

"Valentine is dead to us," declared he. "Tseng, from now on you will be in charge of things. I hope that you will prove as capable as he was, and that you will find someone to make his formidable skills once again at our service."

_I'm going to have to recruit ten new people if you want someone as competent as he was. 'The perfect Turk,' indeed; he was not only the first, but the best. _Tseng lowered his head in respect. "Sure, Mr. President, I'll get right on it."

_But first there is one more thing I must do, before I can bury Vincent for good. Rynn needs me now, though she loved him._

She was in his office, crying again. "I should have woken when he left," she said. _Still blaming yourself, Rynn?_

"You're being too hard on yourself."

"If just to say goodbye...he loved Lucrecia, and I should never have interfered. I was a fool, hoping for something that was already taken. Oh Tseng, he left me ensnared in his grasp as surely as he was in hers, and yet he never even loved me!" She broke down against him. _I'm so weak, _she thought with disgust. _Here I am, acting like a spoiled girl again, and all for what? Because I deluded myself into believing that he and I would start a new life, that he would just walk away from her? But he said in his note...he said he didn't deserve my love. So did he deserve **hers**?_

"Rynn," said Tseng softly. "I'm not Vincent; I know that, and I can never be Vincent." Something in his tone made her look at him, really. _Has he loved me this whole time?_

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Tell you what?" he asked.

_Maybe I'm imagining things, _she thought. "Nothing. Just a foolish notion. I'm sorry."

"Here," he said, and pressed play on the recording device. He had prepared for this moment, known it was coming. She jumped as she heard Vincent's voice. It was a conversation between the two of them. "He called me, and I couldn't help but ask."

_Ask what, Tseng? _Then she listened.

"Do you love her, Vincent?" came the voice loud and clear.

And, right before the phone returned to where it ought to be, she heard one word, frozen in time, preserved in her heart forever. Though soft and hesitant, that one word that justified all her pain and restored her memories of him to the amber happiness of one blessed afternoon: "Yes..."

finis

------------

YAY! It's done! I'll be uploading more stories shortly, I promise.


End file.
